


Training Exercises

by je_suis_le_petit_lapin



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Face-Fucking, Interrogation, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, dubcon, very porn setup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 08:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6696952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/je_suis_le_petit_lapin/pseuds/je_suis_le_petit_lapin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spy probably wouldn't be able to survive being kidnapped and tortured, Soldier decides. That's why it's up to him to teach Spy how.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Training Exercises

It wasn’t the sweltering light, shone directly into his eyes, that set him off. Nor was it Soldier, circling around him awkwardly and tapping him at inopportune moments with his beloved crop. No, what really boiled the man’s blood over was the scent of Soldier’s cigar as he huffed and shouted in Spy’s face.

“... fuck you.” Spy exhaled.

Taken aback, Soldier snarled, hot breath and small amounts of spit blasting onto the parts of Spy’s face not obscured by his mask. “What did you say to me, private!?”

Spy’s grimace went unnoticed as Soldier continued his tirade. “I am doing you a favor! Teaching you what you might go through if you are captured in the field!”

The use of bright pink handcuffs to secure his arms behind his back seemed like an aberration from what he would see in a real kidnapping, Spy thought, but he did have to commend the man on being both rough and thorough while tearing his clothes off and tossing him into the chair.

“Do you think that the Commies would take it easy on you?” Soldier lowered his voice, with a touch of something almost like genuine care coloring his tone. Then, as if he recognized how he was sounding, he straightened his back and pointed his crop at Spy’s face. “They would have you on your knees in a minute! They would do their best to destroy you, private, and it is up to me to teach you how to not let that happen!”

Spy felt a part of his stomach twist at the thought of being on his knees in a circle of reds, passed around like a party favor, but Soldier tapped him on the nose and he refocused his eyes to stare up at his ‘captor’.

“Do you know how they’re going to torture you?”

Spy had an inkling of how Soldier thought they were going to torture him, but considering how many times Soldier had grazed his ass with the crop, it might have just been wishful thinking on the American’s part.

“They will do everything they can to break you,” he was up and circling again, “and you must not let that happen and disappoint America, you-”

“Really, this has gone on long enough!” Spy was not having any of Soldier's buffoonery.  “I'm not even American, why would they be torturing me for American intelligence? You should be here, tied to a chair and whipped by an idiot! Now let me go!”

Spy only got a second to look up at Soldier’s lowered eyes, because then his head was whipped to the side, cheek smarting. He tried to jerk his hand up to rub at it by instinct, but he’d accidentally yanked his other arm against the back of the chair. Now he was certain he had two bruises to worry about.

“You know what they’d do to you for that?” Soldier almost sounded like he was laughing, like he was going to enjoy what he was planning, and Spy barely had a second to gulp before Soldier had one hand wrapped around the back of his neck, tipping the back legs of his chair off the ground so Spy could be pulled face-first into his crotch.

Soldier’s hand raised up just a bit, so that he could mash Spy’s face into him more effectively, and Spy groaned as he felt the button of Soldier’s pants scrape his forehead. Soldier, not to be outdone, growled right back.

“You would be broken in a minute.” He snorted, slipping the cigar into his mouth so he could pop the button on his regulation pants and fish his cock out. Spy’s face only got a short rest, and then both hands were back on Spy’s neck, trying to force the man’s lips to the head of his still-rising dick.

Spy’s clamped-shut lips earned him another crop to the face and then Soldier’s hands were gripping more roughly. “Suck it!”

Spy shook his head as much as he could with Soldier’s death grip. Lifting one hand off Spy’s neck, he brought it down in a solid backhand across the already deep red mark. “Suck it or I’ll show you what they’d really do to you, pretty boy.”

A straight-up backhand was already pretty close to what Spy thought they’d ‘really’ do to him, but he obliged Soldier’s cock into his mouth, unsurprised that he took the chance to slam himself all the way in.

What he hadn't expected, though, was for Soldier to hold him there. He thought that Soldier would pull all the way out and ram back in, or start fucking his throat with the breakneck speed with which he’d been stripped and manhandled.

But no, Soldier’s hands were tight on the back of his head, Soldier’s head hitting that spot in his throat that was making him gag a little.

“Fight it, fight it!” Soldier barked, moving himself around just to make sure he was making as hard as possible for Spy. “They’ll have more cocks than me, you got to be sure that you can take them all like an American!”

Spy raised an eyebrow; usually he’d hear that the French were better at that particular skill. He clenched his fists in the handcuffs and willed himself to stop choking, stop coughing and drooling all over Soldier’s dick. The second that he calmed his throat down enough to stop, Soldier rocked his hips back until he was just barely past Spy’s lips.

“They’re gonna be rougher than me, too.” 

And he started jackhammering.

The gagging was back full force, and Spy thought that the best thing to do was to relax and freeze, be a warm hole for Soldier to fuck, but the crop was back running along his cheek, tapping the growing bruises from before. “Remember! The faster you get them off the quicker they’ll be!”

Spy raised his tongue to let Soldier’s cock slide over it more, hoping that it would be enough for him. A couple more thrusts and Soldier pulled out completely, frowning down at his captive.

“Have you never sucked a cock before, boy?” He sneered down at Spy. “Open up!”

Spy stared up at him, defiance written in his pursed lips. Undeterred, Soldier picked up his crop and flicked it over Spy’s nose, much softer than Spy was expecting. Spy winced anyway.

“I said open up.” Soldier growled.

Spy shook his head.

“Fine.”

Before he knew what was happening, Spy’s chair was tipped over and he was howling in pain, fingers bruised ( _ another _ one, or several, he was going to have to worry about) under his back. Soldier smiled down at him.

“You want to know what they’ll really do to you, I can you show you that.”

Unceremoniously flipping Spy over, Soldier pulled the key out of his pocket to pop the handcuffs off of Spy, tossing them aside and grabbing his wrists roughly. He extracted Spy rather forcefully from underneath the chair before tossing him over the desk.

Spy would’ve screamed, if the air hadn’t been knocked out of him by the end of the desk he was now bent over, but luckily he got his breath back in time to yelp when Soldier shoved a finger in him, to the knuckle.

“Nice and tight…” Soldier muttered, pulling his finger out and shoving it back in with another. He spread them roughly, delighting in how Spy’s groan turned into a shouted French expletive.

A third finger quickly joined the other two, and Soldier extracted just long enough to spit on them and slam them back in. Spy’s reddened wrist flew up to his mouth in a feeble attempt for him to stifle the pained grunts coming out of him.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” The hand not currently preoccupied with (barely) stretching Spy out reached up and grabbed him by the crook of his elbow, yanking it until it almost dislocated behind his back and pulling Spy further back onto Soldier’s fingers in the process. Spy keened.

That was the magic sound for Soldier, who gave one final twist of his fingers and slipped them out, grabbing his cock and guiding it to where his fingers had just been. He rutted himself between Spy's cheeks for a solid minute, until his cock was fully erect again, and rocked his hips back to spit one final time on Spy's hole.

Lining himself up, Soldier pressed himself into Spy's still-tight hole just enough that he could stay in without holding himself there, and his hand reached up to grab at Spy's other wrist.

“Brace yourself, pretty boy.”

Then, with more force than even he was expecting, Soldier gripped Spy's wrists and wrenched his shoulders back, spearing the man onto his cock and making him howl.

“You think this hurts?” He bellowed, smiling at the vigorous nod that Spy had given him, along with a few nasal whines, and slammed his hips forward as much as he could. “You probably love it.”

“No!” slipped out from between Spy’s grit teeth, interrupted by Soldier driving him into that damned desk edge again, and one of Soldier’s hands finally let Spy’s wrist go to grip the back of his head and throw his torso flat onto the desk.

“Shut up! Just take it, you want to make it easier on yourself!” Soldier punctuated his words with a quickening of his pace, followed with “well,  _ you _ probably don’t.”

He wanted to argue, but the side of his head hit the wood particularly hard and he was afraid what Soldier would do if he talked back a second time, so he bit his lip and let Soldier pound into him as his free hand weakly gripped the desk.

Smacking Spy on the ass, Soldier pistoned his cock into Spy’s hole, small puffs of smoke flying out of his cigar with every grunt. He felt his balls pull upward and pressed himself in completely, reaching down to bounce Spy over his cock like a toy. “Appreciate it!”

Spy didn’t think he could appreciate anything that Soldier was doing to him, fucking him as fast as he could with a little spit for lube, but at least he could admit that they would probably use as much in a real hostage situation.

Doesn’t mean that it felt good that Soldier was pressing his hips against Spy’s ass without any, and as soon as Soldier did, his cock jumped and he spunked deep into Spy. Dropping Spy’s other arm to flop down aimlessly, Soldier pumped a couple more times, making certain that he was done coming before pulling out and slapping him one more time on the ass.

Spy let out all the tension that had built up in his back and slumped even more onto the desk, panting heavily.

“Don’t get too comfortable, Princess; there’s still eight more reds.”

* * *

Soldier made his way over to the couch, holding a mug of tea and Spy’s cigarette case, wincing when he saw Spy’s bruised fingers slide out from underneath his blanket to grab at them.

“I don’t know, I still feel like I was too rough.”

Spy waved him off before taking the tea in one hand and his cigarettes in the other. “I asked for it because I wanted it.”

“But… your bruises.” Soldier sat onto the cushion next to him and wrapped an arm over Spy’s shoulders, grabbing Spy’s hand and pressing his lips to it.

"I’ve had worse in battle, Medic will heal me with the gun at some point and I’ll be good as new.” After a long swig of tea, Spy set his mug down on the arm of the couch and leaned into Soldier’s chest. “Don’t feel bad about it.”

Soldier shrugged. “As long as you’re sure you’re OK.”

“I’m better than OK,  _ cher _ .” Voice sweet, Spy smiled up at him. "I'm wonderful."

Soldier didn't argue with that.

**Author's Note:**

> haha, joke's on you, it ended with sweet fluff, suckerrrrrrrrr


End file.
